


War Stripes

by Daerwyn



Series: A Collection of Drabbles by Helmaninquiel [11]
Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-27
Updated: 2015-10-27
Packaged: 2018-04-28 11:36:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,981
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5089235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Daerwyn/pseuds/Daerwyn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Imagine being a skin-walker (tiger or dragon form) and killing Azog in your animal form before he can hurt either Kili, Fili and Thorin.</p>
            </blockquote>





	War Stripes

Your ferocious roar tore through the group of Orcs that you landed in, and though Beorn ahead of you cleared a path with his large bear figure, you made an equally as noticeable gap with your tiger form as you plowed through the Orcs that did not seem to expect your bombing.

Nor expect to see you at all. The last whispers of your race had gone extinct decades ago, but you made sure you survived. After all, how could you die out when you knew your race had never needed you more than it did in this battle? One last hurrah before the last of you died of old age. One last battle that people would tell stories of for generations to come.

But these were not the Orcs you had any interest in. It was the pale one you saw as you rode atop the Eagles that had meant the most to you to take down. So you diverted from the pack of orcs, and Beorn, your oldest, and dearest friend, your lover, to sprint towards the hill that had been the castle in which the pale orc claimed.

The one that had imprisoned your people and tortured them until they plead for mercy. Until they bled.

Only few of you ever escaped, and even fewer survived from their injuries. But you endured because of this moment. Because you wanted your revenge. You rode on and you rode hard, your large paws digging into the ground, the dry winter lands barely noticeable to your fur coat. And though you didn’t exactly blend into the landscape like Beorn likely could have, being a pure white with dark stripes, you knew that they would not see you. They were too busy watching the battle in the valley below.

So once you got close to what was called Raven Hill, you slowed carefully climbing the steep steps and spotted the pale Orc fisting a handful of a blonde dwarf’s hair. Though the dwarf didn’t mean anything to you, you saw the creature laughing as he readied his blade. A snarl tore through your throat, bringing attention to you. And before the orcs could even react, you were bounding towards the pale Orc, causing him to spin around just in time for you to launch yourself at him.

He roared in anger, and began to tear away from you. But your teeth did not let go of his throat. A high-pitched whimper left you as you felt the blade of Azog pierce your fur, and when your body crashed into the ice, it did not hold your weight as you had hoped, instead plunging the two of you into the ice cold water underneath.

Your claws slashed at Azog as he gripped you tight, sending a mix of blood and water into every wound the two of you shared. But you made sure your crushing jaws held onto his neck, and you only released him when you felt his fight leave him. You pushed yourself through the ice and whined as you slid onto the ice, crashing down once more, but thankfully not plunging through.

You felt dizzy and struggled to your feet only to fall. A dark haired dwarf approached you, different than the blonde you saw above. You did not know what happened to him, only that he dove out of the way of your attack.

You felt the dwarf touch your freezing wet fur and you whimpered as he grazed the wound. “You’re hurt. It doesn’t look too good.”

It didn’t feel too good either. You closed your eyes, taking a few deep breaths to calm yourself, before your body began to shift unbidden, the pain unmistakable as you cried out in your human voice. Almost immediately, a cloak was being wrapped around you. It was not the dwarf that had come to your side, but another, looking much alike him, but older and taller.

“Kili, take her to someplace safe, and dress the wound as well as you can. There are Orcs coming from the back.” Orcs. Yes. And that meant you needed to change back. But you pulled the coat away from you long enough to see the wound, despite the freezing air that touched your skin.

A pained gasp left you as you took a step, and you could see that the sword had pierced your lower abdomen. “My name’s Kili,” the dwarf that had first come to you said carefully. “Can you walk?”

“I need to change back,” you ground out. But when you took another step, you cried out and nearly stumbled if the short dwarf hadn’t steadied you. You were nearly twice his size, and the coat you wore was more of a rag, but it was warm.

Or that was you on the verge of changing. “You’re too injured.”

“The dwarf in the tower,” you ground out. “Where?”

“Fili?” That was his name? Not that it really mattered, but you nodded anyway. “He’s fighting still, on his way down.” You groaned as he tried to help you move, but it just made it worse.

“I’m fine, dwarf.”

“Uh, you’re bleeding onto the ice, you’re barely able to walk, and you just took a polar plunge. Your lips are turning blue, definitely not fine.” You didn’t have the energy to argue. You just snarled as he reached for you again, and it was the last of your energy, before you whimpered and the world went black. The last sound you heard being the clanking of the broken chains on your wrist.

You could smell the frigid ice that coated the mountains of your home as you woke. And the sweet scent of honey. You snarled as a warm hand touched your face and it jerked back sharply, as if it knew not to get close to your teeth. You felt, for lack of a better description, like an avalanche had crushed you alive. And you had been found the summer the snow had melted.

Frozen and sore.

“She’s waking up!” a voice cried, one you didn’t recognize.

“Quiet, dwarf, there are still Orcs about.” That voice you did.

“Beorn?” Your throat felt like you had swallowed something vile, and as the memories rushed back, you realized you had. It had your stomach churning and you twisted, despite the pain it caused you, retching up the black orc blood you had consumed in the fight. It burned, but you felt like your stomach had stopped quaking at least.

“You have a deep gash on your side. I’ve stopped the bleeding, but it is still a deep wound.” When your eyes finally opened, you squinted up to the large bear man.

“Have we won yet? Or do the bastards still walk?”

“We’ve won,” Beorn said carefully. “But there’s no need to worry about that now. Did you kill Azog?”

“Tore his throat out,” you muttered, trying to sit up, but Beorn’s grip was firm on your shoulder, holding you down against the ice. “Forests blazing, Beorn, it’s freezing on the ice.” Beorn looked grim, though. And you felt your stomach clench. “Don’t you dare tell me I’m going to die. Not after everything that’s happened, this is it.”

“You aren’t going to die.” You glanced to the blonde dwarf. He was a small thing, barely the size of a child. But he gave you an honest smile at least. “Kili was trying to find the elves that were up here. They can heal you. They healed him-”

But you just winced slightly at the jerk your body gave. “Elves?”

“It’s the best we’ve got,” Beorn said. “Lie still or I will knock you out cold.”

“I’m already cold,” you snarled towards Beorn. “Because no one’s gotten me off the ice.”

“You’re not leaving the ice until you’re healed,” Beorn snapped. “It’s keeping you from bleeding out. So shut up and  _lie still_.”

You exhaled in a growl, but refused to let the pain the action caused show. “Stupid bears. There’s a reason you’re almost extinct.”

But any further insults died in your throat as you couldn’t help but be thankful for the ice, as the pain was slowly leaving you the more the ice numbed the wound, and the rest of your body. It was a blonde elf, and a red-headed one behind him. Or her. You couldn’t really tell gender from them. They all looked like women to you. Too long hair, delicate features. But you’d only let them touch you for the sake of letting them heal you. You didn’t owe debts to elves. You swore that long ago when one came to rescue the skin changers in the Orc’s grasp.

They could have easily done it.

They spoke in that weird tongue of theirs and you snarled as they touched you, causing the blonde elf to glare at you just as hard as you glared at them. Your teeth bared slightly, coated in Orc blood. But Beorn put an end to it, blocking your vision of him by gripping your chin tightly to force you to look towards him. Him and that blonde dwarf.

“Thank you,” the dwarf said as sincerely, though you had no doubt he was pretending. “For saving my life. Azog would have killed me.”

You snorted. “And yet no one did the same for me or any of us. Not even the _elves_!” You said the last part loudly, giving a yelp of pain a second later as the elf was none too careful. A snarl tore through you, and Beorn growled back in warning. You had no doubt that next time he’d make his threat become true, and he would knock you unconscious.

“I mean it though, thank you,” the dwarf, Fili, or Fefe, or whatever the other one had said, insisted. You merely glared at him, before squeezing your eyes shut as a growl built in your throat. One that was holding back the cry of pain. And when the elf finally drew away, declaring you in good health, at least until you reached another healer for final treatment, only then did you truly care for the fact that you and Beorn were naked.

Clothes didn’t exactly change forms with you.

“Can I change or no?” you asked.

“You won’t tear anything, but it could cause you more pain.” It was a risk you were willing to take. You clenched your jaw, hauling yourself into a standing position, and you tossed the dwarf coat away from you with a scowl, and the blinding pain tore through you, making you give a cry, before you were on all fours. You snarled at the elves, but the blonde one merely raised an eyebrow, as if he wasn’t impressed. And you turned towards the dwarves, all huddled around like they were ready to fight. And you dipped your head before you huffed and snarled towards Beorn.

If you were going to suffer in pain, then he was sure going to be walking with you down this blasted mountain.

Or you were absolutely not going to give him any hint of affection for a month - and no guarantee of any take-backs for insults.

But Beorn knew that you would never stay angry at him for long. Not after all he had done to get you out of the chains of Azog’s reign, and free you from the servitude many didn’t survive. You still wondered on their fates when the nights were dark.

Almost as much as you dreamt of tearing elf heads off of their bodies.  _Elves_! You shot a glare towards Beorn, who had finally shifted into his bear form, and he snarled in response. Ugh, you would be sure to yell at him for that later, after you shook the water out of your fur and regained feeling in your numb leg that nearly dragged against the ice.

_Elves!_


End file.
